


Queen of Pages

by GoodQuestion



Category: Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, fun re-write for one of my favorite ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodQuestion/pseuds/GoodQuestion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kel/Roald. Canon verse, starts with Page; a pairing spin on the series while trying to fill in blanks between scenes where feelings had the potential to form. While trying to staying true to the original plot in the books . Sort of. After all, Tamora Pierce left much unsaid. (60% will probably veer off canon path towards the end.) Rating subject to change. Originally posted on ff.net Nov. 2008, re-writing and bringing it over onto my AO3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a huge fan of Kel/Roald and first thousand times reading the books there were chunks missing here and there so I wanted to expand on those while manipulating the storyline to give me a Kel/Roald story. I'm going to try and stick as close to canon. It's going to start with Page and probably run all the way through Squire and maybe Lady Knight; I really haven't decided how far I wanted to take this.
> 
> I'm also gonna try and do highlights on some of my favorite and neglected characters.
> 
> Still unbeta'd after all these years and I doubt my English has improved any.
> 
> * Updated ; Originally this story was published Nov. 10th 2008, I got 9 chapters in before I lost steam and then lost my book. Well, guess who got First Test, Page, and Squire for Christmas? (Of course, right as I asked for them my mother went through my old room to pack the last of it up in storage and found The First Test and Page) . So I'll be starting to write this again, if only a little.
> 
> Original authors notes may or may not be made available, haven't decided yet. But probably not seeing as I can't copy paste off of ff.net anymore and the original files for this story are long long long gone. But hey, for those of you who've hit met up on tumblr asking me to continue, here we are. :)
> 
> PLEASE REMEMBER THAT NONE OF MY WORK IS AUTHORIZED TO BE POSTED ANYWHERE ELSE.

Kel groaned as she pushed herself up slowly from the ground, her arms trembling with the effort. She blew air out between her clenched teeth as she straightened her arms and locked them, wondering if she had done enough of her exercises to make up for her laziness the evening before. She had to do something to keep her moving or she felt she was going to go a little mad. While she was content in solitude the days were dragging on a little too quietly for her. At least tonight would be the last night of waiting. Kel had arrived a few days before most of the pages would be making their way back to the grounds, but the rest should return by tonight, or at the very least sometime in the next morning. Tomorrow their second year officially started. Her first year as an official page.

 

She had yet to see Neal or any of her other friends, other than a brief glimpse of the Prince of course, and hoped that she would get to see them all during the evening meal after they picked first year's to sponsor. Her friends would make wonderful sponsors, after all she'd gotten to see the experience first hand. She'd already decided that she wasn't going on. Her reputation preceded her, and even without that mark she couldn't imagine what type of shame some kid might get from having a girl as their sponsor. Kel had imagined a lot of bullying in that boy's future. Let others handle showing the ropes.

 

With a deep breath, making sure she stretched as she inhaled, she stood up and wiped the sweat from her forehead, pushing the bangs that were stuck against it, back. Her hair had grown out almost to her shoulders since she'd last cut it and made a mental note to get that done as soon as possible. Summer hadn't been the best for long hair anyway but her training had kept her busy. Kel rolled her shoulders back, feeling them pop and crunch loudly as she stripped off her clothes. The benefit of practicing her muscle strengthening exercises in her room was that she could head straight to the bath. She'd requested one and done her last set as she let it cool. A hot bath would've made her dizzy. Despite it being Autumn the wind was lacking and the sun was determined to cling to the last feelings of Summer. Even if her aching muscles would've appreciated the warmth Kel worried that she would've stumbled out of the bath into an ungraceful heap on the floor.

 

Kel soaked in the bath until it turned completely cold, the sun already starting to set, her body chilling. The bell was about to ring for the last meal of the day. For a second, Kel contemplated not going, she was quite comfortable. It wasn't as if she _had_ to attend anyway, these meals were not mandatory so no one would care if she showed up late or at all. She let herself idle in the bath for a few more minutes before she scrubbed herself thoroughly clean and stood up and out of the bath. After drying herself off she got dressed, she'd already picked out a cream color dress with the edges embroidered with green thread.

 

The door closed behind her with a resounding clack and she turned to twist her key in and whisper to it, making sure no unwanted guests could enter. She didn't even manage to turn around before she felt a friendly punch to her shoulder. “Kel!”

 

She smiled, “Welcome back, you look like you've added a few inches.”

 

Merric shrugged and leaned back, puffing his chest out a bit, “I wouldn't know about that, and anyway, I'd rather be at home if it's all the same.” He continued to tell her that he'd only arrived a few hour and had yet to find anyone else.

 

“I'm assuming your summer went very well then?” The two of them began to walk towards the dinning hall. It was going to be nice to have company.

 

“Hot and stuffy, but at least if I avoided the right people I'd get around to having some snoozing time,” he said with a grin, “my father stressed the point that I needed to keep up my training a little too much for comfort. I'm not going to be getting away with any of that here.”

 

Kel hid her grin behind a stoic, understanding face. Her mother had make sure that during the family she didn't slack on her training as well, but for her it hadn't been forced. Instead it had been a welcomed refresher. “Is Faleron here yet?” she asked, remembering that they were related by blood.

 

“He should already be here, actually. King's Reach is closer to the castle than Hollyrose,” Merric commented as they entered the hall that led tot he dinning room. There they would wait for the pages to gather until the last of the new arrivals had come. Sponsorship picks would occur after. Those who arrived late would be dealt with separately.

 

Cleon found the two of them after some searching, bidding a quick farewell to friends he'd been talking to in his own year. Spotting Kel, and knowing while he couldn't make her run errands for him anymore, he smiled. He could still have fun teasing her, trying to see if he could managed to get some type of reaction; he could consider himself accomplished if he did.

 

“Who should be here? Kel! My pearl, the sunshine in life. My summer days have been so dark and empty without your glowing presence to warm them.” Kel turned around to see Cleon giving her a mock bow.

 

“I'm sure you had a candle or two to keep you company,” Merric said as he elbowed Cleon, making him wince and stand up. The two boys tussled around for a bit.

 

“Ruffians! The lot of you,” a husky voice exclaimed from behind them. “Barbarians. I had hoped that your families might've beaten that out of you through the summer months.”

 

Neal stepped nexto to Kel and bumped her slightly as a hello. She grinned up at him, shocked that while he'd grown she seemed to be gaining on him as well. She bumped back into him and Neal briefly rested a warm palm on her shoulder.

 

“Too much brain and no brawn makes for a coward,” Faleron commented stepping out of the gathering crowd.

 

“You look well,” Kel said and smiled moving forward to greet her friend.

 

“I look tired, the ride wasn't an easy one.”

 

The boys exchanged greetings and swapped small stories of their summers as they waited for the new pages to arrive. The doors creaked open and they hushed. A line of shy, small, looking boys (many sneaking wide eyed glances at each other), marched through the large double doors. Some were swallowing nervously as they looked around the room. Most of that faded into poorly concealed shock as they eventually found her, with her long flowing dress. Lord Wyldon walked in after them, letting the doors slam shut with a loud bang that send the first years jitering and jumping. All but one, a plump boy who continued to stare at the room in awe.

 

“Name and fief; we will have a senior page be appointed to you to show you the ground,” Lord Wyldon said, his voice echoing off the walls. He pointed to the first boy in line.

 

“Owen of Jesslaw!” the boy bellowed out, a big grin on his face. There was a small pause as the older pages took in the young boy.

 

Neal leaned over to whisper in her ear, “That grin's not going to last very long here.”

 

Kel spoke back just as quietly, a smile in her tone, “This place hasn't seemed to dampen yours.”

 

“I will sponsors him.” The crowed parted as Prince Roald stepped forward. Kel hadn't even noticed him joining the knot of pages. Not that it surprised her. He wasn't a very big fan of attention. What did impress her was the almost carefree way the young boy, she'd forgotten his name already, had walked up to the prince. Putting him out of her mind for the time being so continued to watch the selection of pages. Neal, Cleon, and Merric also stepped forward and chose to sponsor a boy.

 

Just as her stomach was about to start protesting in the most hideous of ways, the selection process was over and they were herded towards the dinning hall. The mass of boys rushed forward, all hungry and wanting to sink their teeth into something with substance. Prince Roald held his sponsored page back as he waited for the mass of boys to pass and thin out. It didn't make sense to get trampled. Kel and her group pushed forward.

 

“Prince Roald,” she said with a short bow and smile. The older boy made a small face at the 'prince' but let it slide, bowing a small greeting in return.

 

He smiled, “Glad to you see you back with us. Has Seaver arrived yet?”

 

“Haven't seen him- now let's goo~, we can catch up later,” Merric nearly whined as he attempted to push Neal and Cleon's towering forms into the rush in the hall. The prince gave a half nod to Kel and smiled, before turning and walking with the rest of the group, listening to Owen's cheerful chants of 'Food! Food! Food!' They sat down at a table in the back, where they were least likely to get bothered. They walked to the lines of food in turns, making sure that someone was always at the table to claim it for them.

 

“So, _Nealan_ , did you romance yourself any new women over the summer?” Cleon teased as they sat down after the conversation had briefly turned to who all they'd already seen at the castle. Daine had been mentioned much to Neal's chagrin.

 

“Actually, yes,” Neal said with a dignified huff, blowing into his soup briefly before diving into his food with vigor.

 

“Yes, but there's a difference between staring after her and her knowing you exist,” one of the new pages mumbled, surprising everyone by talking but getting the intended laugh out of the group anyway. Kel smiled into her own bowl of soup as Neal sputtered.

 

“And to think I tried to be kind and sponsor you,” Neal muttered into his spoon with an eye roll.

 

“Probably did him more harm than good,” Kel pointed out, “it does not do well to be sponsored by someone at the bottom of Lord Wyldon's list.”

 

Neal huffed a but but grinned at her. “Oh but my fair Keladry, you are wrong on one count. I've been usurped! I believe a certain lady page holds that most coveted position these days.”

 

The boys laughed and Kel shook her head, grinning with them. The prince turned to look at her with a shake of his own head. She was truly a welcomed change, and not simply because interesting to talk to. Her experience abroad alone made her one of the most valuable peers he had ever come across. He was well aware of what the treaty with the Yamani Islands meant for his future; it was an honor to be friends with someone who had been immersed in the culture first hand. She was also easy to talk to because she wasn't like the usual female companions that he was introduced to. It gave him a strange sense of ease to know that she wasn't interested in anything but conversation when they talked. He didn't blame the other girls, of course not, they'd been trained by practically a script. It didn't stop Kel's friendship from being a breath of fresh air.

 

Kel looked up as she felt eyes on her, tilting her head in question. Roald shook his head, “You've grown again,” he commented simply, “soon enough you'll be taller than Cleon.” She made a face and turned to the older boy, who had stopped to stare at them with food half hanging from his mouth once he'd heard his name

 

“Oh gods I hope not,” Kel said with an easy smile, leaving Cleon confused.

 

Later during the meal, Esmond joined them having arrived late and barely catching himself a plate of food as the cooks began packing away the trays. He'd dropped onto the bench with a grateful sigh, muttering a 'hello' as he inhaled his food. Kel listened to the chatter for a bit longer before excusing herself. She was still sore and the hard bench wasn't helping. She felt guilty for wanting maybe an hour more to relax her muscles before the hard work began but her aching body agreed with the early bed time. Neal offered to walk with her but she shook her head and told him that she would be fine. She didn’t have younger pages to show to their rooms. She bid her friends good night and after crawling into bed fell asleep almost immediately.  


	2. Late

Neal groaned in his bed as he heard a banging on his door. He had _just_ dropped down onto his sheets, the heat making him lazy and unwilling to get up. Even if the hard training hadn't started yet he knew what was coming and the thought alone left him exhausted. With a dirty look at the ceiling he ran his long fingers through his hair, ruffling out the strands out at the tip of his widow's peak. He'd tried to let himself enjoy a late morning but he'd had to get up early to help the poor little mite he'd picked to sponsor find his way to the library. This had been followed by the beginning of training. His knees ached and not for the first time he wondered if he hadn't been better off at the university.

 

“Neal! Let's go! We're gonna be late for lunch,” Merric yelled through the door, banging on it again.

 

“If you don't come out in a bit we might just run the door down,” Cleon added, his voice muffled by the thick wood.

 

Neal glared towards the direction of his friends from his bed before rolling sideways, letting his feet slam down to the ground first with a thud, gathering himself up, and slouching his way to the door. It swung open with only a small creak. “No, thank you. This place is horrible enough without a trashed door to let anyone passing just gawk into my room.”

 

Cleon laughed and cuffed Neal over the head. They tussled with each other all the way to the mess hall, Cleon making sure to drag the older boy along. As they reached the tall doors Esmond looked around and wondered out loud if they should have fetched Kel on their way there. It was close to time for lunch to start and just because she'd passed her probationary year didn't mean that the punishments would get any easier for her.

 

“She'll be here soon enough. I saw her running up the hill, heading to her rooms some time ago,” Cleon mentioned as they organized themselves into a line for food.

 

Neal stared at Cleon's back for a moment, wondering how long behind the other boy would've had to have lingered to catch that but let it go. If Neal had been able to peer inside Cleon's head he would've found that the boy didn't know why he had lingered either. He'd only noticed her struggling with the added weights to their bodies and hadn’t wanted her to stumble down the hill they'd had to march up.

 

The prince saw the group from the far east entrance of the dinning area, having showed Owen different ways to get to the mess hall if one entrance was crowded. He looked through them and noticed that his favorite female page, though arguably the only female page, wasn't among them. He frowned slightly but assumed, or rather hoped she was on her way. Lord Wyldon had never let his royal status affect how harshly he and equally he dolled out his punishments and he felt a small run of nerves for how Kel might be starting her new year. If she immediately managed to get herself extra work their conversation on Yamani history would have to be shoved back even further. He wasn't sure he'd be able to remember what he'd wanted to ask her for that long.

 

Roald stepped in through the doors and fetched his food, glancing around the room for only a fraction before picking out the next table he would seat himself at. As he began to walk towards a group of this years he felt a soft tug at his elbow; Owen had freed one hand from his own tray and was pulling at his sleeve.

 

“Aren't we going to sit with your friends?” he asked, not yet knowing the routine that he followed.

 

“You're welcome to go to them if you'd like,” he said politely, “but I sit with everyone equally at the meals.” He ended his explanation there. Especially since the previous year he'd noted that even before their group doubled, nearly tripled in size (which wasn't hard to do with a start of two-three people), he'd spent a lot of time with Neal and Keladry. Until she'd been allowed back as a full time page he'd let it slide a little. Now? He had to be more careful. He would not risk the ire of their peers onto her after she'd worked so hard. Even though they were supposed to be equal as pages he didn't want to jeopardize Kel with his status. The prince putting special focus on _The Girl._ It would be the Alanna fiasco all over again. He couldn't do that to her.

 

As Roald walked forward he noticed Owen following. Then again he'd only met the other pages by name yesterday. It would've been odd for him to just drop himself into the midst of their group. The hall waited in muffled anger, pages and squires that had returned grumbling as they waited for the last missing page to arrive. The prince stared at his own plate and shook his head as the people around him continued to glance at Lord Wyldon, hoping that maybe this once he would forgo the rule and let them eat.

 

Keladry was off to a great start.

 

“I told you we should've fetched her,” Esmond hissed on the other side of the room, leaning across the table. He kept eyeing the doors anxiously, waiting for them to open. “Now she's got it in for her.”

 

“You worry too much,” Neal said loftily. Just as the words left his mouth the doors opened and Kel marched through, Joren's snippy remark echoing through the quiet hall.

 

“Page Keladry. A knight who is tardy costs lives. Report to me when you have eaten,” Lord Wyldon declared from the table.

 

Roald watched her go by and sent a sympathetic smile her way, which she almost missed in her hurry to get her food and seat herself. She gave him a small smile back and her hand twitched as if wanting to give him a tiny wave back. Kel grabbed her food and wedged herself into her seat, waiting for the prayer to be over, and digging in. She nearly groaned in relief as the potatoes touched her tongue. She hadn't realized how hungry she'd been.

 

“Joren's matured quite a bit since we were here last,” Neal commented dryly as he sent a glare that could pierce skin at the boy's back.

 

“Who's Joren?” asked one of the younger pages, seated with them once again. Though, with the way he sometimes eyed Kel at the table and tried to put a little distance between them it was because he hadn't made any other friends.

 

“Someone you should avoid” Neal advised with a genuine, serious expression.

 

“If I didn't know better, I think he pays a little _too much_ attention to what Kel does,” Merric remarked as he shoved a carrot into his mouth. There was a small pause of silence before he realized that it had sounded like. It took Kel finishing coughing into her water cup for him to react. “Not like that! I'm just saying- he's-”

 

“If I were you, right about now, I think I'd stop talking,” Faleron said with a chuckle, his dark eyes glittering with unreleased laughter. “I believe if you were in court, about now would be where you invoked your right not to incriminate yourself.”

 

“Yes, but we're not in a court room, now are we?” Merric shot back, trying to save face.

 

“We might as well be with Lord Wyldon in charge,” Cleon said with a glance over his shoulder towards the elevated tables where the Lords sat.

 

“Well, if nothing else the halls are better decorated than court rooms. Drab things,” Neal said.

 

“I think you're a little too observant of palace decorations. Is there something you're trying to tell us?” Esmond asked, eyes wide with fake curiosity. Neal flushed and threw the last bits of his roll at him, the bread hitting him squarely in the chest before tumbling onto the floor.

 

Edmond was about to retaliate with a piece of his own when Kel spoke up. “Where's Seaver? He's coming back this year, right?”

 

The boys paused for a second and looked around the hall. It wasn't likely but he could've been sitting somewhere else. Their friend was nowhere to be found. Had there been problems with transportation? A lame horse? An ambush? At least an as older page he didn't have the worry about getting terribly lost in the palace so that wasn't it. Late arrivals, ones that missed the first few days, were very rarely accepted back in. They would have to try again half a year later at the appropriate time.

 

“He may be arriving late, or he's eating somewhere else,” Merric said though there wasn't much conviction in his voice.

 

“What if he's not coming back this year?” Esmond asked a little alarmed. More so than any of the other pages in the group, much like Neal and Kel, they were closer to each other than anyone else in the group. “I knew he was planning on coming back when we left but I haven't heard from him since the summer ended.”

 

Kel leaned her arms on the table, “I'm sure there's a good reason for it.” She nodded her head decisively.

 

“It's not like we haven't had late arrivals before. I myself was accepted into this sophisticated pig sty a good few months into the spring year,” he mentioned, going back to his food. It wasn't an issue to get any early gray hairs over. The meal went without any further big interruptions, Neal teasingly wishing Kel good luck with a wink, and Faleron patting her on the shoulder as they left her along to talk to their training master.

 

“I love not being at the bottom of the list anymore,” Neal commented cheerfully as they headed to their rooms to gather their books for the evening.

 

“You're also not at the top of any,” the prince commented, coming up behind them, Owen in tow.

 

“We can't all be as grandiose as you,” Neal shot back with an eye roll and a mock bow. If Roald wasn't so polite he might've knocked the older boy's head into the wall. Gently, of course, but he had a hard time letting himself rough-house with his peers.

 

“That's your lot in life though, never good enough for any lists,” Owen commented cheerfully, unaware that he had just saved the prince the difficulty of finding a polite relation to the comment.

 

“You need to whip this one into shape,” Neal commented dryly, staring down at the plump boy. “I recommend one with at least three tongues.”

 

Roald and the other boys chuckled, Merric elbowing Neal in the stomach. “You're just bitter because even a no reputation first year has a better reputation than you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is around the time that Jump and Lalasa come in. Which, what type of nationality is Lalasa? It describes her as having dark skin and crisp black hair? As far as I've come to understand the Yamani are based off of Asian decent (specifically I think influenced by Japan and the other islands), the Bahzir along the Arabian Peninsula, I figure all of the top of Africa and stretching to Turkey and Pakistan. Scancrans seem like the stereotypical northern European, the ones that live further on the outskirts, high Scandinavian region coming down to I'd venture the top of Germany and Russia. Tortallan's specifically remind me the most (geography wise) of central European so I'd swing towards France and the surrounding area- though not including Estonia down to Greece. I forget what Gower's description is, I'd have to go back to the first book but so far I'm not focusing on her very much.
> 
> Also grabbing from my original A/N's back in 2008- Seaver doesn't show up until the brawl in the book, and re-reading it again I'm pretty sure I'm not just blind, but that he's actually not mentioned until later.


	3. Don't Play Favorites

Roald walked down the hall after supper, for the second time that day having left Kel behind to talk to the training master. She was was off to a very impressive start of the new year. As he walked, with Owen in tow, he explained to him the allocated study times. He could stay in his rooms, go to the library, or study with a group of friends. Specifically, he suggested his own group of friends. He watched the younger boy out of the corner of his eye. He'd be the perfect type of target for Joren and his crowd. Owen nodded and he wasn't sure if the boy had listened to him or not, they bid each other farewell and he headed to his own room at the junction of the hallway. Roald assumed that the agreement had meant that the boy would be joining them for study group that night. Briefly he wondered if the rounded boy would be able to find himself to Neal's room. The palace had long ceased to be a maze of confusion for him but now he wondered if he should've stayed with the boy.

 

He finally made it to his own room and took out his magicked key. It wasn't that he was in any real danger. The bullies had never touched him, even in his first year hazing, due to his status and fear of his father. Any assassination plots were things that a simple key wouldn't save him from. If they made it past the guards around the castle than he was already dead. A magicked door wouldn't do much. Still, it had made his mother and all of the guards feel better that they'd taken the precaution. He walked into his room and glanced outside his window. He could see the edge of the shining helmet of one of his guards as he leisurely strolled the courtyard. He didn't think his father had ever had obsessive protections like these. It made him feel a little bitter, and more of a boy than a man. He was to be turning 15 at the end of the year. Roald marched to the window and flung the shutters open, letting in fresh air. Despite the warm autumn heat the fresh air would be better than the box he'd been trapped in before.

 

He slung his books under his warm and walked back out, the door automatically locking as it slid shut.

 

“Good evening,” he said as he stepped in through Neal's open door, a habit due to the large amount of time that Kel spent in the room.

 

The mass of pages nodded back at him, scooting around a bit to allow more seating room. The room was starting to the crammed. Page's rooms weren't terribly large to begin with. They were plenty comfortable for one growing lad but once that number multiplied itself a few times movement became difficult. One of the three new pages was seated cross-legged on a night stand, the other two on the bed, Neal at his desk, Merric on the floor leaning against the bed, Cleon on a little chair in a corner, Faleron on a seat next to him- the two using the small drawer Neal had at his bedside as a table.

 

“We're multiplying,” he commented with a smile as he took the offered spot on the edge of the bed. There would still be room for Kel in here.

 

“It's not even the type of multiplying that involves gratification,” Neal mourned, worried that if he moved the wrong way he might sling his elbow into someone's eye.

 

“And what would _you_ know about that Nealan?” Merric teased, laughing good naturally with the other boys.

 

“Plenty more than you do short stuff,” Neal shot back, feeling a flush creep up his neck. Sometimes even Neal had to remind himself of his age. Most of his peers were 11, maybe 12 and he had just had his 16th birthday.

 

“Where's Kel?” Cleon asked, peering behind Roald when no one else walked in.

 

“Yeah, where is she? Talking to the Stump shouldn't take this long. I can't move onto any other problems without working this one out first. Damn chain problems, they _never_ end.” The other boys laughed at the misery in his voice, but each of the friends wondering where she'd run off to. They'd been sitting there for a good ten minutes already, and surely it didn't take that long to talk to Lord Wyldon and fetch her books. She'd done it too often before in a much faster time.

 

“Oh,” Neal commented as he looked up from his work, “she's bringing that dog of hers to Daine.”

 

“Oh! The ugly one,” Merric said in realization before turning to Cleon, Faleron, and Edmund, “it's really ugly.”

 

“Where'd she get a dog?” Cleon asked, puzzled. They weren't allowed pets.

 

As the boys chattered Roald smiled to himself; Kel had a habit of taking ins trays. The description by Merric meant that it was probably a battered soul, much like Kel's horse Peachblossom was. She was too kind to leave well enough alone. Everything smaller or more hurt than her was her business. He admired that in her. The sense of fairness. He hoped to make his as iron strong one day. He couldn't wait to see what type of person she would grow up to be and was glad that Lord Wyldon had let her remain as a page. She would make the Realm proud.

 

They studied in quiet, asking each other questions occasionally, Merric huffing because he had to move on to other work instead. They had settled into a complete quiet almost when a maid came rushing to their door, stopping and knocking on the frame politely.

 

“Yes?” Neal asked, eyes curious as he looked her over. It wasn't anyone he was familiar with. Pretty though.

 

“Page Nealan, I've been told to inform you that Page Keladry and a new boy, Page Owen being brought to Lord Wyldon's quarters. They do not look well off,” she said, her voice mousy and soft. She kneaded her dress with her hands until Neal thank her and she scurried off.

 

The group cursed, getting up and leaving the new pages confused. “We'll be right back,” Neal informed them as he stepped out first, the others following and leaving their work on the table.

 

“What did she think she was doing?!” Neal muttered viciously as they walked down the hall. They couldn't exactly barge into the training masters room but they could hover around the hallways.

 

“No doubt Joren causing trouble again,” grumbled Cleon, his voice low and angry.

 

Roald said nothing but kept his mouth shut and tight in a thin line. What was Owen doing with her? If his gut feeling was right, and he really hoped it wasn't, Kel had gotten in between Owen and someone else. He couldn't see her picking a fight with the pleasant first year so it had to be someone else. The only people that still violently hazed first years were Joren and his crowd. They stopped walking at the end of the hallway and waited. As the door opened he shook his head a little at the sorry sight of Owen and Kel stepping out.

 

“Good evening your highness,” Kel said pleasantly, having rounded the corner to meet them. Her face was emotionless and polite, as if they had met at random and not because she had gotten herself in trouble. He stopped himself from wincing in pity at the gigantic black bruise spreading across her eye. He nodded his own greeting to her gravely.

 

“What on _earth_ did you think you were doing?I thought we solved all this last year!” Neal yelled, stepping away from their gruon and over to her, vexed. If he were a cat he would've been hissing with his back raised and claws out.

 

Roald listened as she explained herself, watching in amusement as Owen stood up for her. The boy had heart. “We,” he almost faltered saying it, technically he hadn't done anything but stay in Neal's room and wait for them to come back while hoping for the best, “have been trying to stop the hazing of the first-years. And I believe I suggested that you study with our group.”

 

Owen nodded, “But there was a _library,_ your highness. A _big_ one. I was just going to look.”

 

Roald smiled a little. He hoped that a knights, a soldiers work wouldn't end up taking that spark from the boy.

 

It was a pity that they had to be so careful. While Joren had never bothered him directly (and not many did) it didn't stop the group from abusing his friends. He would've liked to have trounced them for behaving so poorly. The only thing he had to satisfy himself with was to train his arms, strengthen them so that when they sparred at practice he could make his blows shutter their bones.

 

After they finished interrogating the two they returned to Neal's room; Kel promising to leave only to fetch her books and not get into any trouble on the way. For a moment he considered going with her, the glances he shared with the other older pages let him know he wasn't alone in that, but it wouldn't be right. He doubted it would seriously would Kel's pride but she was a tough girl. She could walk down a hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the lines are taken straight from the book, it seemed stupid to improvise them when they worked very well the first time. And since I'm mainly doing a canon re-write I figured it'd be fine.


	4. Honor

“You know they do allow study groups to meet in the libraries,” Kel remarked as she stepped into the stuffy room.

 

Roald didn't comment on it, but stood up to go lead the way anyway. Didn't the fiasco with Lord Wyldon and Joren start because of a trip to the library? He supposed it didn't matter when it was a group of them. Cleon and Flaeron joined him as Owen skipped ahead chanting. He noticed Neal lingering behind with Kel, probably appreciating the sense of freedom he now had in the room. They entered the library, finding a table close to the window and seated themselves around it, Owen wandering away from them to go look through the books. After all, the first time around he had never had the chance to even make it into the library. Roald lifted his head and saw Kel and Neal enter, waving his hand in the air so that they could spot them where they were. Neal waved back and dragged Kel with him. Kel put herself in between Merric and next to Roald while Neal found himself a spot wedged next to Faleron. Cleon only frowned for a moment, his shoulders tight before relaxing. While they hadn't talked about it they were all aware that Cleon was the only older page that had made her run errands and 'earn her way'. Maybe it was something he'd have to address with the older boy. Kel harbored no ill feelings about it.

 

He pulled out his math work, wanting Kel to double check it, even a prince could make mistakes and she had a mind for math. In the mean time he leaned towards Cleon across the table and discussed with him the key points for an essay of theirs in history. It was a joint project that he really didn't see a point in, they were harder to do, but their teacher had assured that that the ability to community effectively would be important and this would be an exercise in it.

 

“I don't understand why it matters,” Cleon muttered, although he didn't think highly of the subject of history to begin with.

 

“So we don't repeat our mistakes. Learn form our elders,” Neal muttered as he flipped through the pages of a book.

 

Cleon rolled his eyes, as if they hadn't been all told that at the beginning of the year. He still didn't think he needed to write an essay over it. It was enough that he knew what had happened, admitted if barely at that, he was more concerned about the now. There was enough going wrong in their own time that he didn't feel like concerning himself with the deep past. He glanced at Kel as he doodled on his paper, watching as she went through the prince's homework. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since they'd parted. He'd hazed other kids before, he'd been hazed worse, but for some reason he felt guilty about it. Perhaps it had been the change in the culture that surrounded the pages. He was having to re-evalute his own moral system and it was hard to do. He didn't think he was like Joren and the others but then again he hadn't exactly been kind to Kel either. He was both glad and slightly miffed about this being his last year before becoming a squire. He'd finally found himself a solid, unwavering group of friends (thanks to Kel, he had to admit) and he was going to have to separate. Of course, it also meant that he was about to move on to simpler things. Things he understood. A sword, a horse, and a knights job.

 

Roald eyed Cleon over his essay, starting to form suspicions in his head, even if no one else were to realize the fixation. He only hoped it was resolved peacefully. Cleon had always been a good classmate, even if they hadn't been close. A small protectiveness, much like the fire he held as an older brother for his own sibling, gripped him. He wanted to protect her from trouble.

 

“Roald.” He turned his head towards Kel. “It's perfect, as expected,” she teased with a grin.

 

“Better safe than sorry. I'm not arrogant enough to think I can make no mistakes,” he replied as he focused back on his own essay, watching out of the corner of his eye as she began to tutor Merric and Cleon in math.

 

Their peaceful setting was interrupted by clang of a loud bell, indicating that it was the end of the day and they were to return to their own chambers. They bid each other brief good nights, yawning, stretching, and groaning at their sore muscles.

 

The hard training had yet to start.

 

Neal woke up the next morning grumbling himself but crawling out of bed anyway. He looked over his clothes and at the harness; he could almost hear his body screaming in agony. His eyes ran over the leather and he could feel his body clenching in protest, muscles tightening. He bit his lip and sighed, lifting it over his head and finishing dressing. He paused as he was combing through his hair at the knock on his door. He opened it to reveal Merric, looking more down trodden than usual in his harness.

 

“It gets worse,” Merric commented sourly, noting that Neal had only just put his on.

 

The older boy gave him a forlorn expression before the two of them began their march towards Kel's room to fetch her for breakfast. It was only the second day and it wouldn't do for her to be late _again_ and gather more punishment work. They met Seaver on the way, and after a quick round of questioning discovered that he'd been attending a funeral. They offered him apologies but he merely shrugged it off. He hadn't even known the woman but she'd been high enough in title in the family that they'd been required to attend. Seaver simply eyed the harnesses that they were wearing with trepidation.

 

“I hafta say, it's a little odd, inviting people to a funeral like it's a ball,” Seaver commented as they resumed their walk to grab Kel. “There was drink and cheer and it didn't seem quite fititng.”

 

“Dark humor or something like that I think is what you're looking for,” Neal remarked airly.

 

“Hey! Mindelan!” Seaver said, knocking on Kels' door. There was muffled talking coming from the inside. “Whos' she talking to?” he asked, turning to Neal and Merric. There were very few people in the castle that would be allowed with her in a closed room. Kel didn't seem particularly close with any of the female palace staff.

 

“Oh, probably her maid,” Neal said. “I don't know why she took her in but she did. Yesterday. Gower's niece if I'm not mistaken,” he explained as they continued to look confused.

 

Kel opened the door and looked at her friend glumly, “The dog's back.”

 

Neal laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, patting her back. “Your misery makes my morning so much brighter.”

 

“If it weren't for the added weight, I'd knock you down,” she retorted, unable to stop her grin.

 

Seaver laughed and Kel turned, just noticing that he was in their company. They went through much of the same question as they had before as she tried to offer her condolences. They made their way to the mess hall, feet dragging against the floor as they tried to ignore the weights.

 

Faleron, Cleon, and Roald laughed as their younger friends shuffled in through the door obviously unbalanced by the new weight. As Cleon teased them mercilessly Roald tried to assure them that everyone struggled at first when the new weights were added. He didn't even try and argue with the look in Kel's eye. She was too hard of a worker to accept that as an answer. After breakfast began training and they split up into their respective years. Kel struggled through it, glad that she was at least practicing with Neal, someone who knew her well enough that they could keep a comfortable pace going.

 

“I heard the third day's worse,” Neal complained as they walked towards the next practice court, his muscles screeching in protest. He could've sworn he felt every ligament and tendon move. He wondered again why he'd given up the comfortable life of a scholar.

 

“I just want to live through today,” Merric said with a sigh, heading down the hill trying to fight against gravity dragging the weights down.

 

The third year's had been released after the two previous years, so Neal waited on the fourth years to get done to join Cleon and Roald as they made their way back down. Roal wiped the sweat off of his brow, breathing heavy as he nodded his hell to Faleron, walking a bit faster to catch up with the others. He jumped to the side a bit as Joren and his crowed barreled down the hill. He watched Kel like a hawk, wondering if there was a way to protect her just by thinking about it hard enough. She didn't deserve the stupid things that people like that subjected her to. He clenched his teeth and glared as Joren clipped her swollen eye with his elbow as he pushed past. Their group of friends crowded around her until she brushed them off, frustrated. They didn't catch most of the bit of conversation that passed between Neal and her. Keladry continued to glare at the eldest in their group. He'd used healing. Roald smiled as Neal told her it looked the same; he'd shrunken the swelling a decent amount.

 

“Kel, we have to do something about him,” Neal said, his fingers twitching in an ache to want to heal her eye completely.

 

“Yes, stay out of his way. Joren's a page for just one more year, and that's what I mean to do,” Kel replied sharply, standing up and letting her own hand hover over the bruise.

 

“She's right,” Roald said, stopping beside them. He looked at her and wanted to help. He understood how Neal was feeling. “If she takes revenge, she's the one who will look bad.” Even if it wasn't fair. Much like himself, she had certain limitations she was bound to that no other page was. If she wanted to succeed in the goal she had come to achieve she would have to play nice and by dirty rules. It was really a rotten situation but at least she was trying to make the best of it.

 

“So there,” Kel replied, marching away from them.

 

“I wish she didn't have it so tough,” Cleon muttered from behind them,watching as Neal sighed and raced after her.

 

“Joren needs to have a lesson beaten into him,” Faleron agreed, watching Joren walk onto the next practice court then into the shed where the staffs were held.

 

It's the lot she chose, coming up here like a trollop. The Mindeland family must be a mess of a noble house,” a fourth year commented from behind them, having watched the exchange.

 

Faleron and Cleon visibly tensed, clenching their fists and ready to confront him if Roald hadn't pulled them back. He gripped their shoulder's tighter and dragged them down the incline. “Now now,” he told them quietly, giving the fourth year a sour look. “There will be a time later, without watch dogs around if you really want to have a go.” Faleron and Cleon raised their brows at him and he had to agree. He wasn't generally the strongest advocate for violence, he enjoyed diplomacy and strategy. But, if he couldn't help fight to protect his friends he could help them get away with it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the original draft, Squire (I'm on my way to re-reading it at the moment) Cleon mentions that they got into a bunch of fights over her so I figured I'd toss some things about that in here. It's also really weird going back to an old story of mine and re-doing it. It's been 5-6 years since I wrote this? How in the world did I let myself get away with publishing 2k long chapters.


	5. Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FF.net seems to be down for me as far as being able to access my account but as I'm re-writing I'll continue putting them up here.

Faleron glared in front of him as he watched Joren, fetching his own staff and pairing up with Kel, staff practice being intermingled between the older pages. He walked over to her as they lined up, giving her a weak smile. AS Sergeant Ezeko began to bark out their routines, Faleron tested the strength of Kel's blow and blow for the first few rounds, adjusting the way he hit and blocked so that while she would get training in she wouldn't collapse under it. They fell into a comfortable but solid rhythm after awhile. Even with all of the bruises and aches that the girl had she kept the swings coming one after another, steady on her feet and her eyes never wavering.

 

He watched her curiously as her eyes focused, there was a change in her pupils and a shift in her shoulders as she solidified her strikes. His body fell into a comfortable pace of its own as they parried each other. Then suddenly her eyes shifted to somewhere behind him and she faltered. Faleron noticed too late and brought down the staff against her collarbone, watching horrified as she crumbled to her knees, hissing. “Kel! You didn't block it! Neal-”

 

Roald heard Flaeron cry out and slid his back foot further back so he could shift out of line a little to peer of the row of pages. Kel was on the ground, eyes closed tight, her palm resting on at the junction between her neck and her shoulder. He felt the urge to crowd around her as the rest of their friends did but knew Neal would have it handled, he could see the taller boy already stepping out of formation. He probably would've gotten there to check on her if Lord Wyldon hadn't stopped him.

 

Faleron gave an apologetic look, his face still showing sings of his fluster, especially when he'd actively tried to be careful. He needed to work on his own focus. A mistake like this shouldn't have happened. She gave him a wavering grin before he walked off, Lord Wyldon having re-arranged the pairs. He kept his sigh in as he trudged over to his new partner. At least the boy that Kel had been paired with was new and wouldn't swing quite as hard as they had been. She could keep up with that in her sleep. The staff session ended after what seemed like an eternity to Kel's friends, all of them fidgety about her bruising. It wouldn't have even been so bad if she didn't insist on picking fights with people to make things worse.

 

As they put their staff's away Neal called attention to a rather unfortunate looking dog resting at Lord Wyldon's feet. It was the same pup that had been mentioned earlier and after some explanation why Kel's attention had wavered. Faleron felt a little relieved that he could share some of the blame. He hadn't just screwed up by himself. Kel had taken her eye off the ball. After archery and riding was done with, Faleron fiddled with the clasps of his horses saddle. He knew she wouldn't do anything as silly as keep a grudge but something seemed off about asking for a favor after you'd whacked someone with a hard, heavy pole.

 

“Kel, I'm still not sure about that catapult problem,” he told her, embarrassed and moving to lean towards her and against the rail that separated the stalls. “If it fetch it to lunch, would you take a look?”

 

“You didn't have to ask, you know,” she replied with an amused expression.

 

“So, Faleron, you're friend with her now because you can have her whenever you want?” Garvey muttered.

 

Faleron growled, tested beyond his limits for the day. It was hot, he ached, the weights were heavy, and he was damn tired. He threw down his brush, launching himself out of the stall to teach the boy a lesson. He frowned and struggled as he felt Kel's arms around his own, stopping him from beating the oy to a pulp. He tried to yank away from her, forgetting that she was tired and in pain. Neal and Roald had been watching from the entry of the stables, both fuming, Neal showing it more so than the prince. Seaver walked up behind them, holding onto the reins of his horse, their friends slowly gathering. They meandered to their respective stalls to station their horses. Roald watched Neal and Merric carefully. Their tempers were pretty famous. He switched his focus from the younger boy to the older, concerned about the tight set of his shoulders. He reached into the bucket at his horse's feet for the sponge and began to scrub down some of the dirt from his horse. He was almost done cleaning when the older boy spoke up.

 

“Joren is _so_ pretty. Say, Garvey, are you two friends because you can have him?”

 

As if they'd been waiting for a que or a 'go' signal, Kel's friends vaulted from their own spots towards Joren and his crowed, running to Neal's aid. There was a thrum inside of the barn as the boys lurched forward. A beat down had been so long coming. Roald's body almost propelled him forward to join the fight, but instead he gripped Owen tightly, trying to keep him from entering the bawl. He watched as Kel tried to make her way across the sea of grappling boys. He winced as he watched a boot collide against her bruised collarbone, her eyes rolling as if she'd fainted.

 

A shudder passed through him as he watched the horses break out of their stalls, wading through the people to try and separate the mess. Kel had managed to find Seaver and Merric, pulling them roughly by the collar and letting them drop backwards behind her into a ruined stall and out of the mess. She moved back into the fray, grabbing Cleon's arm to keep him from re-entering the brawl. Merric and Seaver crawled out of the way and out of the broken stall, breathing hard and exhausted, leaning against the posts that supported the stable. Roald smiled as his own gelding reached Faleron, pulling him by the arm and leading him gently out of the mess and to the sidelines.

 

Most of the pages hadn't made it out of the mess when Lord Wyldon and Sergeant Ezeko strode in from beside him with large buckets of cold water. He watched as ice cold water sloshed out of the bucket in a glorious arc and covered the remaining pages that hadn't stopped fighting. Roald kept his mouth shut as they issued their orders, finally letting go of Owen and going to his own horse. He kept a watchful eye on Kel, her hands were shaking (angry?) as they finished working on the stables to clear the horses.

 

No one talked during that evenings meal; even classes were spent in silence. He rubbed a hand across the bridge of his nose, pinching a little before sliding his hand down. Everyone had been punished for the incident. It looked like it would be a very long first weeks. He stopped at his room and waved at Neal as he passed, both of them looking somber.

 

Neal sighed as he plopped down into his bed, quite unsatisfied with the punishment work but glad that they had done at least a little something to fight back against Joren. Admitted, it meant less freedom and less entertainment for him, but Kel was worth it. If she wanted to succeed she couldn't do it with so much trash floating around. Alanna had gotten her way by disguising her gender, Kel would have to brazenly walk that path. Maybe if she succeeded other little girls could dream of becoming knights. He touched a finger tip to a bruise at his ankle and watched as his magic flowed around it. He'd only hoped the fight hadn't caused so much damage.

 

He heard a knocking at his door and stood up, opening it to find Kel, her face a blank mask. He let her in but panic bubbled in his chest as she yanked the door shut behind her. His eyes darted from the door to Kel as he tried to argue. Had the incident at the barn made her insane?

 

“You were sixteen last month. You're supposed to know better. Did you honestly think you were _helping_ me down there?”

 

Neal paused for a moment, staring at her, realization and awe dawning on him like a slow sunrise. He tried not to smile. For the first time since knowing her this calm, always composed, young lady was _mad._ And _showing_ it. He bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep the laughter in. It would just make her madder. “Are you-Kel, the Yamani Lump- are you _yelling_ at me?” he asked, voice full of wonder and whispery.

 

Kel gave him a sour glare, her hands fisted at her sides,” Yes I am! You didn't solve anything! You just made it worse!”

 

Neal sighed and dropped down onto his bed, stretching himself out and watching her carefully. He had an advantage being older, even if it made him even more so the odd man out as a page, he knew the courts better, the world better than she did. Her view of the world she lived in was naïve, reasonably so of course. “Maybe, maybe not. I think they'll reconsider, next time they want to start fights over your virtue,” he remarked hoping that she would understand and not leave him awkward explanations to add. The other younger pages had caught on quick enough, if their quiet tussles with other students (not as notorious as Joren) meant anything.

 

She looked genuinely confused, “What has my virtue to do with anything?”

 

Neal leaned over and ran his hands over his face, rubbing the back of his neck and wondering the most eloquent way to bring this to her attention.”I'm surprised they didn't try last year,” he told her, even if he managed to hear snippets of conversation the older boys had held, “Oh I suppose they made dirty little jokes with each other, never mind that a _real_ knight is supposed to treat women decently,” he muttered his temper starting to grow. He watched Kel shift from being aggressive to confused and a little withdrawn. He had her attention. “Maybe they thought saying you're a lump, and not as strong and on probation was bad enough.” He'd guessed long ago that this would bloom into a bigger problem. He wasn't sure if the name calling of that sort had ever bothered her, it hadn't seemed so, but he wasn't sure if she could handle how nasty it was going to get.

 

“Are you making sense yet?” she asked him, obviously not wanting to continue the conversation. Still, he couldn't let it go. She had to understand why she had to be more careful.

 

“But you're still here,” he said with a smile, proud that she'd made it so far, “Now they're _really_ worried. They haven't changed their minds about lady knights just because Lord Wyldon let you stay.” He waited to see if she'd caught on yet. She hadn't.

 

“I didn't expect them to.”

 

He felt like sighing. “Well, so they decided to try new insults today,” he paused, “and talk of different kinds of sex makes people crazy.” Neal watched Kel's face and wanted to bury himself under his blanket as she tried to understand where he was coming from. He dreaded the day that she would start growing into her womanhood. The world would be a much harsher place for her. Instead of extrapolating on the subject he continued, “See, Kel, if all of a sudden everyone's getting into fights about your virtue, maybe the Stump will get rid of you after all.” He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face once more, finger combing his hair.

 

He watched as Kel's body tensed. It had finally hit home. Neal watched her think, her eyes glistening a little as worry crept into them. She finally stuttered out, realizing what the implications were. “I'm eleven. That's too young to be lying with men, Neal. Much too young.”

 

He closed his eyes briefly, wanting to get this conversation done and over with as quick as possible. If she'd stayed at a school for ladies she'd be getting groomed to start shopping for a husband the second her body changed. She needed more female friends to confide in and the castle wasn't exactly full of people who would help her. “Facts don't matter with Joren and his crowd,” he told her simply. It wouldn't have mattered with any other woman who'd tried for the job but he figured they were extra nasty due to how talented Kel was at such a young age. “Just gossip. Just making your friends angry enough to fight,” he explained, “I reminded them that gossip is a tricky weapon, that's all. It cuts two ways.” It was the one talent he'd cultivated and kept from his years at the academy.

 

He started to fidget as Kel continued watching him. There wasn't anything he could do to make the conversation any easier. Truth was truth and it was something he'd have to face. She chastised him again and he rolled his eyes. Someone had to make the fights for her. She couldn't or it would be an excuse to kick her out, but if rumors and other comments like that were to fly around it would jeopardize her. It also helped that he wasn't one to let insults to his close friends go unanswered.

 

Later in the evening, after he'd healed all of his bruises and they sat down for supper Kel glared quietly at the rest of their friends. Even if she'd given the speech to Neal she wasn't happy with any of them. The only one she was a little more polite to were Owen and Roald, that is until Owen said that he would've jumped it had it not been for the prince.

 

After supper, Kel returned to her room, grumpy and wanting nothing else but to collapse into her bed. She found Lalassa sitting on a bench in her room and a hot tub waiting beside her. The shy girl looked up at her, giving a small smile as Kel gave her a grateful expression. Reluctantly she had to admit that having a servant _was_ convenient. Now if only she wouldn't be so skittish around her. As she sank into her bath she was surprised to have the older girl initiate a conversation.

 

“Milady, how are you feeling?” she asked. Gossip traveled quickly around the castle.

 

“Fine. A little tired,” she muttered, too tired to continue a full conversation.

 

“His comment was vile, nothing you should fret over,” Lalassa said softly. She concentrated on her sowing as Kel looked at her confused. Finally she understood and snorted.

 

“I can handle the insult, it doesn't mean that much to me. My friends, they should have kept to themselves. Thanks to that I've caused all of quite a list of chores until Midwinter.”

 

Lalassa glanced at her a little confused. Finally she let it go, thinking it none of her business. “You have caring friends,” she commented finally.

 

Kel stared at the wall before dipping her head under the water. 'I do, don't I?' she thought with a smile and then came up for air. 


	6. Limits and Temper

Kel woke the next morning early, as she always had, and made care not to wake up Lalasa. Her morning routine would end up making noise no matter how hard she tried but she didn't want to disturb her. Of course she knew her maid strove to wake up earlier than her on principle it was ridiculous to expect her up before dawn. She stretched in her night gown and yawned, sliding it off and fetching her clothes. After dressing herself in a loose pair of breeches and a shirt, she withdrew her practice glaive from the rack on the wall, spinning it in a circle around her to make sure she wasn't going to hit anything.

 

Birds chirped outside of her window as she took a few calming breaths, steadying herself and squaring her hips. She started with her glaive raised slightly above the ground, parallel to her body. She lid one leg forward and then straight, keeping the other bent behind her as she got comfortable in the position. She gently raised the weapon with her right hand, so that the tip pointed downward, her other hand clutching the glaive further down at the base. Kel swept her leg over, going in a smooth spin, and brought the glaive around her with it. She swept low and then back up as she turned 180 degrees and stopped. From her lowered crouch, she stood and turned her arms so that the curved back of the blade sliced upward as she lifted the end of it. Satisfied with her control of the weapon she began one of the simpler patterns that went through all of the basic steps, speeding up every time she completed a cycle of it.

 

Kel drew to a sharp halt and stood after she realized there was a pair of eyes on her. Her back tingled with the gaze. She turned to see Lalasa watching her. A small smile blossomed onto her face. The other girl didn't look quite as frightened of the routine as she had the first time Kel had taken the weapon down. “Good morning, Lalasa,” she said with a nod before going back to counting her breaths to steady her pulse.

 

Lalasa smiled and nodded in return, moving past Kel now that she was done. She opened the large shutters to the room and light flooded her chambers. The sun as bright in the sky and Kel winced a little as it struck her eyes. She opened her mouth to comment on something to Lalasa when a white blur hopped in through her window, followed by a herd of sparrows. The butt of her glaive thumped loudly as he turned it to lean on it. She stared down at the white figure sitting happily at her feet. “You're quite pleased with yourself aren't you?” she asked Jump, who simply wagged what was left of his tail in return. Kel couldn't even be sour as she heard Lalasa's muffled giggle in the background.

 

“Here milady,” Lalasa said, walking up to her and handing Kel her bundle of clothes for the day. She nodded her thanks and went to dress herself.

 

As she emerged from her private chambers she fought the laughter trying to bubble out of her chest. She watched quietly as Jump ran in a circle around her room, the sparrows clinging to his back. It also warmed her heart to see Lalasa openly smiling at the display as she got out her work for the day. She almost _did_ laugh as she saw her maid slip him a treat for every round that he didn't knock the sparrows from his back.

 

“I'm sure you will get tired of me asking,” Kel said to her as she slipped her shoes on, “but could you ask Gower to take him up to Daine?”

 

“I think he likes you,” Lalasa replied but promised to let her uncle know.

 

Kel scoffed and rolled her eyes as she stepped out of the chamber. She made the oddest of friends. She closed the door, leaving Lalsa to concentrate on whatever she wished to do. More than likely she would end up sowing all day since Kel never had very many things for her to do. She was also very good at it, Kel had noticed. Of course she'd grown up with sowing and had even been forced to give it a try herself but she'd never met someone with that level of skill and talent. Lalasa's movements and stitches always had a natural feel for it. Kel would bet money that she could probably do it with her eyes closed. If she hadn't been trying for her knighthood she might have envied the older girl for her skill.

 

She walked to Neal's room, knowing that they punishment work from the night before had left him tired and the idea of continued punishment would make him reluctant to get out of his bed. She banged on the door until an angry, disheveled Neal popped his head out. He nearly managed to get himself smacked in the forehead by Kel's fist.

 

She smiled, “Good morning, Neal. Did you sleep well?”

 

He simply grunted at her with a sour look before opening the door fully to let her in. She bit her lip to hide a smile as Neal seated himself on his bed, pulling his shoes on, pausing for a second, and then dropping backwards onto his bed. He turned over to the side trying to curl back into it.

 

“Look on the bright side,” Kel said as she grabbed one of his arms, pulling him back up. His arms flopped as he tried to make it more difficult. “You won't have to eat any vegetables for awhile.”

 

Neal gave her a blank look but finally let Kel haul him up to his feet. “I don't need them,” he mumbled as he finally tied up his shoes. Dragging his feet he followed Kel out the door, bringing a hand up to cover up a yawn.

 

They reached the mess hall and filed glumly into the line to receive their bread and water, quickly searching out their friends in the back and seating themselves. The entire hall was quiet except for the occasional chatter. Some of the pages gave blatant angry glances towards their table, specifically aimed at Kel. She, of course, didn't notice. Kel was too busy trying to eat her meal and imagine it into something better tasting.

 

“Well, at least it's not bad bread, “she said, trying to cheer her friends up.

 

“I like my real food,” Owen muttered with a frown. He'd chosen to sit with them even if the prince sat at another table. Roald had assured him it would be alright. He was quite fond of them as well.

 

Kel bit the inside of her cheek, reminding herself that they didn't need another scolding from her, even if they had more or less brought it upon themselves. They shouldn't have tried, no, succeeded to start a fight over something so trivial. It just made her seem more convinced that Lord Wyldon would toss her out at the drop of a hat. The rumors themselves shouldn't be something that she could get expelled for. It was just gossip. The fights however, now that could leave her with her things packed at the gate. As long as they all kept themselves out of trouble things should've been fine.

 

“It'll pass before you know it,” she said instead of voicing her thoughts. She drained her cup of water and grabbed her last loaf from the table. “Eat, you'll need it for the practice courts.”

 

The boys grumbled and tried to chew their food, most not eating more than a loaf or two before stopping. The bell rang though the castle and they rose in unison, heading towards the next part of their day.

 

“I think I'm going to faint,” Seaver mumbled, his stomach still protesting to its emptiness as they reached the practice courts. Esmond agreed, rubbing his own belly and waiting for all the pages to gather for their hand-to-hand combat training.

 

“Maybe if someone hits me hard enough in the stomach it'll shrink, and I won't be so hungry anymore,” Merric commented wistfully, turning towards Neal. He held his arms out to the side. “Try it.”

 

Neal stared at him and reached over to give him what he'd asked for. His arm faltered in the air and his fist tapped him gently. Merric's stomach let out a loud growl.

 

“Now you've just aggravated it,” Merric said with a frown.

 

Kel shook her head but thought of her own belly. She'd managed to force down more food than her friends but still it felt empty. Then again, knights did this all the time, didn't they? Sometimes food would be scarce and they would have to go on anyway. If a battle took too long and there was no choice but to be fatigued it wasn't as if they could call a pause to the fighting for a meal. She touched her belly and prayed that she wouldn't faint as Seaver had worried for himself. It was shameful enough to faint on the practice field but if she did it... Fainting in the middle of practice would leave a black stain on her reputation never to be washed off and it could very well carry as a black cloud to any other girl who wanted to try after her.

 

“Line up!” a crisp voice bellowed out.

 

The pages neatened into a straight line as Lord Wyldon came marching up; in his hands he carried two round disks. There was almost a collective shudder from the pages.

 

“Two more weights,” he explained despite most of the pages having already come to that horrifying conclusion themselves.

 

A few pages actually did groan, though most bit their lips or clenched their fists to keep from complaining. Lord Wyldon was in no mood for any back-talking. Kel watched their training master give the first boy the weights, his arms sank as they settled in his palm. The rest of them were handed out by the Shangs, tossing or handing them to the remaining pages. Kel caught hers and held in a tired sigh. The punishment work was bad enough but the weights felt like boulders in her arms. With a grim face she slid the two new disks into the openings and slots of on her harness, designed for this purpose.

 

At the end of training, Kel and Merric headed out before the others, having finished first and wanting to get food into their bellies as soon as possible. It would still be bread and water but the shaking of their needs didn't care what type of substance it was. Their friends trailed after them, Owen, Esmond, and Seaver trying to keep up with her brisk pace, while a few remained at the stables.

 

“It's fine enough if she wants to ruin her own life as a girl by coming out here but she's causing too much trouble,” an older page grumbled as he put up his saddle on the small rack.

 

“I don't understand why she worries about her 'virtue' anyway, as if any man would even pay to lay with her. She's built like a boulder,” the other commented back, sneering as he said it.

 

Neals' temper flared even in his hunger. He clenched his fists, ready to pounce, but the Prince held onto his sleeve tightly. His was was somber and calm but his eyes burned with anger. “Let it be,” he said calmly. They didn't need any more fights. Not now and especially not in the stables.

 

Admitted, he'd almost wanted to reach over and give a swing himself. He heard more of it than he let on as well. He never commented and most learned to take the hint when he very calmly defended her. Still, he'd never fought quite like the other boys had and it made for some very loose lips around him. Roald cursed his need to be diplomatic. After a morning of hearing nothing but rude comments about his circle of people _he considered_ friends, and he did not have many, he was starting to feel irritated. A burning that twitched at his fingers. Even the hard morning of practice and the ride had not rid him of the feeling.

  
Cleon and Faleron walked over to them, having finished with their horses, confused as to why Neal's shirt was bunched tightly in the Prince's hand. Faleron opened his mouth to ask but Roald shook his head. Especially with the two people who'd made the comment so close by there was no need to make the situation worse. Neal would be further goaded to the point where he would probably act on his anger, and Cleon and Faleron would more than likely join in if not just to defend Neal. He only had two hands to hold people back with.

 

Roald led the group away from the stables, needing Cleon's strength to help drag Neal away from them. They slowed down as they spotted Joren's group ahead of them. Cleon tightened his grip around Neal's shoulder, half to keep him there and half to keep himself there. Together they started to veer as far away from them as they could on the road.

 

“If women knew their place this type of mess wouldn't happen,” Vinson remarked loftily as he groaned, looking like he was going to slide the added weight out of his harness.

 

“That's the way of women. Some whore aren't even worth the money you put into them. But don't worry, she'll be gone soon enough. There's only so much even the Lump can take,” Joren said with a chuckle.

 

The four of them froze. That sounded like a threat, and not an idle one of mud over her door. Cleon's grip on Neal so strong that if he were to pull he could dislocate his shoulder. Their small little group ended up catching up to them, their feet unwittingly hastened by a collective feeling of anger. Joren opened his mouth to say something else when a fist collided with his cheek. The two boys around Joren went down as Cleon and Flaeron shoved them to the ground. Joren's eye were wide, a small moment of shock as he tried to figure out who'd swung at him. Roald stepped to his face and tightened one hand around Joren's collar, bearing down on him and using his other hand to grip his throat until it bruised.

 

Joren kicked him in the stomach, Neal rushing forward to catch the prince as he was flung back. Vinson and Garvey scampered up and tried to intervene but Cleon and Faleron stepped in the way. Roald pushed away from Neal, who was too awed by Roal'd show of force to move. Four on three would have been an unfair fight anyway, he would think to himself later in amusement. His eyes caught movement at the top of the hill and he quickly slid in and pulled his friends back by their collars. “Move!” he whispered harshly and nodded his head towards the two people whose heads were starting to appear over the hill.

 

They made their way quickly until they reached the empty court yard, sitting down for a moment and heaving as they surveyed any damage. Roald could feel a bruise forming on his stomach and a small throbbing above his eye. Joren had clipped him when he hadn't been looking. Cleon had a busted lip and an aching knee, Garvey had nearly popped it out of place. Faleron seemed mostly undamaged except for a slightly bleeding nose. Neal smiled, then laughed, walking over to the prince first. He shook his head and let laughter bubble out of him as green fire spread from his hand's to the prince's bruises. They faded as they watched. “Now that, your highness, was the most beautiful thing I've seen in awhile.”

 

Roald grunted at him and buried his face in his hands as Neal healed their other two friends. They each stared at each other and then the prince, realizing what had just happened as the rush of the small fight passed. He felt bothered by it now that he had time to think. Faleron and Cleon joked, congratulating him on stepping out of his stiff princely mold, before heading off for their meal. Neal looked after their friends before looking back at the prince. Despite his lofty attitude he'd learned to be quite observant.

 

He touched Roald's shoulder causing him to look up. “If it helps, you are not the first,” he told him sternly, knowing all too well from the stories that his father and his father's friends had told him that King Jonathan's page years had been rather eventful. “And you will not be the last in the line either. Everyone has their limits. Besides, no one who matters witnessed it.”

 

Roald gave a dry chuckle before taking a deep breath. He would worry about what he had just done later, at the very least, no one would even know. Neal had taken care of the evidence and he highly doubted Joren and his crowd would do anything about it. “Thank you, Neal,” he said standing up, “I didn't mean to wallow.”

 

Neal scoffed as they began to walk towards the mess hall after their friends, “You, my dear friend, you brood. Wallowing is more Kel's thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taken from original A/N's : I went back and started reading the Song of the Lioness 'cause eventually I want to bring in some Alanna and I realized something. Jonathan was a dick. Roald is so much better adjusted and just, wow. The difference between them are amazing, at least how they behave publicly (seeing as we never got to see much of Roald's private life in the books.) But, it does give some material to work with as far as Roald's character goes. After all the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, even it if it rolls down the hill. /
> 
> And I do believe that while Roald never went out of his way to fight, tried his best to avoid it, everyone's got limits at sore sports. I think he would've gotten into SOME tussles, even when he was a first year himself with dicks for older pages wanting to test the prince that would've been kept on the down low.


	7. Royal Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the old A/N; in the Page books, was there a character you wanted expansion on? I'll do my best to. I'm about to re-read Lady Knight after new years and I think I'll take another trip though the first quartet. 
> 
> Also, now as an older author, several years older than when I wrote this. Word count? Oh lord, I'm only at 4 pages I'm not sure I would ever feel comfortable publishing a chapter this short, now. Also, it's interesting re-reading about puberty for Kel. She was 11/12 I think (I know I just re-read it but I've forgotten) when she developed breasts and then her period hit and all about her first crush. And it was super weird for me to realize, holy hell that is how young some of it does happen. Holy hell that's when everything started happening for me! I was so YOUNG. Even if you don't develop breasts or have your period until later I think crushes do start developing at this time. It's also super weird having written for the Supernatural fandom for so long to where everything under 18 is tagged as underage but not in the Tortall since I wrote for it back in the day and going back now. Are there tags I should be adding? (There will be no sex until the canon age at which she first considers it.)

Roald returned to his room that night with heavy thoughts. Even if Neal had healed his bruises he could almost pretend they were still there, reminding him of the fight. For a second he was almost grateful that Lord Wyldon had put a temporary ban on study groups. He didn't feel particularly social. There were worries he had to sort out. Roald opened the door to his room and slipped inside. The room was like any other pages. True, in the past as the prince he would've requested any type of special privileges; bigger room, more convenient location, something. He'd dug his heels in and demanded equal treatment to the other pages. It wouldn't be fair, things he hadn't earned, just because he was born into the right family. Nobility status didn't always guarantee that they were worth that specialized treatment. Joren and his pack being a prime example of abuse of station.

 

Until Kel had arrived he'd never paid much attention to Joren. They were in the same year, shared the same classes, and knew all of the same people. The most he knew about the other boy was that he was skilled with a sword. He'd actually seemed like a mostly decent person, well, before the infamous lady page had joined their ranks. He shrugged his shoulders and let out a long breath as he dropped into his bed. He stared at the ceiling as he thought. After the little incident he wasn't sure he'd be welcome at their table anymore. It wasn't a huge loss but his need for diplomacy mandated certain behavior. He didn't want to be accused of favoritism or using his royal blood as an excuse like his father had in his younger years.

 

Road worried at his lip and drummed his fingers on his mattress. Despite his heritage he didn't think many people paid that much attention to him. Sure he was noticed but he wasn't sure if anyone paid enough attention to note if he stopped spending time with them. His stomach felt heavy for a moment as he realized how separated from everyone he was. He'd learned to recognize the polite smiles and feigned interest as a small child. He didn't have many people around him he could call friends. He was like a shadow that passed along them. A man they would eventually live, and some, die for. Roald smiled a little morosely and tried to hold in a bubble of laughter. He closed his eyes and thanked the gods for his friends. It had been a miracle that Faleron had even started to become a friend for him those years ago. Then Neal with his sharp tongue and the family he came from leaving him without any nervousness about approaching royalty. It had been a great relief.

 

As a child he'd been quite withdrawn, not because he'd really wanted it but because of the high level of control he'd have to show later in life. Then again he didn't really have a reason to speak up much, his little sister, Kalasin, (his best friend for the longest time and still, although they rarely had time to see each other) spoke enough for both of them. Still, he was naturally more of a thinker than a speaker. He understood the rigid nature of the prep for his page years. After all, his father had helped cover up one of the biggest scandals in the Kingdom. There were the rumors of a relationship, taking her in as his squire, blatant disrespect for authority, and every other thing he'd done as a page left a hard legacy to follow up on. The changes his mother and father were creating in power weren't making anyone happy either. He had a hard line to walk.

 

That is how he'd began his page training. He had spent a year in personal isolation, unable to make too many true friends because of his obsessive politeness. Of course there were status vultures that buzzed around him like he was a dead calf but no one he could call a friend. Then he had met Faleron after having a minute's slip of temper in the library. He'd begun his second year as a page with the small comfort of that friendship. Even the page he'd chosen to sponsor, while obviously grateful for the service he had provided, quickly acclimated to his own personal social group. The winter came, and then April, and the arrival of Nealan of Queenscove. He was tall, two years older than even himself though he would be a first year. It was an odd situation, switching so late, but he _was_ a Queenscove and the name meant a lot to the crown. Old families. His first opinion on Neal was that he was insane. Had to be. Not even a full year into his first term and he had rounded himself up punishment work by getting himself into several battles of wills with Lord Wyldon. Roald had advised him to be careful. Neal had told him to lighten up. They started studying together.

 

And now, now he had Kel. She understood his position, much more than anyone else did or possibly could. Even Neal. He appreciated the subtle ways that Kel looked after him. The Yamanis taught her well or perhaps it was just something she already possessed. She made sure to never put him in a position where he would have to choose between what he wanted to do and royal duty, although, he was sure she never meant for her war on hazing to go past her own efforts. His original interest in her had been almost purely diplomatic. Of course having grown up with _the King's Champion_ and how talented and fierce his own mother was he'd never grown up with the doubt that women could be warriors. It was a given. Still, the first _legal_ page in a few decent decades was worth getting to know simply on principle. Female pages were a very pressing issue; he'd never expected to count her as a friend.

 

Of course there were others. Cleon, Merric, Seaver, Esmond, and Owen but he sometimes wondered if he was just a shadow in their lives. He hoped that wasn't true.

 

“Damn,” he whispered, tugging at his black hair. He'd lost his temper. He'd been lucky, oh so lucky that Neal had managed to pull them away before they'd been recognized by any of the adults. That wouldn't have ended well for him, even if he was sure that Lord Wyldon would give him the same standard punishment. He imagined his mother would frown at the news and his father would laugh.

 

Roald needed to watch himself better, make sure slip ups like that wouldn't happen again.

 

Even if it had felt so good. The thought stuck with him in his dreams.

 

It was the first Sunday that they would be spending trying to repair the stables at Kel was not happy about it. She didn't mind the hard work, or did she mind the punishment, it had been rightfully deserved and there was no getting around it. What she did not like was the assignment given to her by one of the older pages that had been put in charge. A fourth year she didn't know.

 

She was to climb a ladder.

 

Kel's hand shook as she touched the rough, wooden step of the ladder. Her gaze traveled upwards towards the loft, where she would be helping a few other pages with internal roof repairs. One of the main poles had crashed during the fight. Which, after a few days of rain and stress by other natural elements had started to give in a dangerous way. The right side of the roof was collapsing inward with the support broken in half by the fight. The pole had been put back up by professional architects but the rest of the work was theirs.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

Kel squaked and jumped, clutching onto the side rail of the ladder as she turned around, eyes wide. She met the concerned gaze of Roald, who'd also been assigned to work up in the loft. Kel looked down and fought a blush. She was embarrassed. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not that it was one of her friends that had witnessed her squeaky reaction. It felt overly feminine.

 

“Yes,” she answered, turning around to face the ladder, starting her slow climb, legs shaking as she lifted herself onto it. She shuddered and bit her lip for strength, slowly lifting her other leg to the next step and pulling herself up with slightly tremling hands.

 

Roald smiled and patted her leg. She nearly jumped again and glanced down. He gave her a comforting look. She was already pale and not even a few steps off the ground. “I promise to hold the ladder, and catch you if you fall,” he told her.

 

Kel gave him a weak and wavery smile, “I'm too heavy for you.”

 

Roald shook his head and held onto the ladder, “You're muscled, Kel, not heavy. And if you are truly that concerned if I wouldn't be able to catch you, it would reflect poorly on the weight training I'm supposed to have been doing.” She gave a small nod and started climbing up. One shaking leg at a time. He wished he had her courage. After she made it to the top, she crawled away from the latter to the far end of the platform. Where, she could see for a moment just how far off the ground she was. Her vision swam for a moment. Roald climbed up the ladder quickly and confidently, standing up and off onto the loft.

 

“Shall we?” he asked, a small grin on his face as he held out a hammer for him to take.

 

She nodded, the vomiting feeling going away for a moment. She breathed in deep and clenched her fingers against her pants. They moved together, shadowing each other as they began pulling old nails out, aligning things back and then re-nailing. In an effort to be kind, the prince offered to let Kel hold the nails while he pulled them out so she wouldn't have to look out and see the ground. She shook her head and told him that she needed to work on living with her fear of heights, even if she had to stop and turn around after every nail she ripped from the old frame. He ignored the drained color on her face and the sweat dripping from her hairline and let her do it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw pages come and go quickly, finishing their jobs in a matter of minutes while she worked nail by nail.

 

After some time, judging by the sun's position at least an hour and some change. The rest of the boys went down the small ladder, giving poorly disguised glances at Kel who was still trembling. Roald paused and stopped before going down himself. “Would you prefer I went before or after you?”

 

She thought about it for a moment. It was a serious question for her. She didn't want to be last, too much of a possible audience, but she was scared of falling. Seeing her struggle, the prince spotted Cleon and shouted out to him. “Hold the ladder for a moment? If you could?”

 

Cleon nodded, smiling and dropping his own tools on the ground. He walked over, steadying the ladder with his strong arms. Kel grumbled at them and they both had to look away. She muttered to herself about having to work with the fear and that it was cheating.

 

“You can practice vomiting some other time my Morning Glory,” Cleon told her as he waited for her to start inching her way down the ladder. “Come, Sunshine on a cold winters day. It wouldn't feel right to have the most beautiful pearl in our drab halls be late to our supper feast!”

 

Kel tried to keep herself from laughing or giggling but gave. She began her slow climb, switching from looking at one of her feet to staring at either Roald or Cleon's eyes, shamefully glad of the reassurance her two friends were giving her. She felt like she was being weak and she hated it. She let out a grateful sigh as she reached the ground, feet solid, forgetting that Cleon was behind her. She leaned back a little as she tried to breathe and was surprised to feel a solid body behind her. “Sorry, forgot,” she said with a sheepish grin, her face still ghost white.

 

Cleon shook his head and promised her he didn't mind. “We'll go ahead,” he informed Roald as the two of them headed out of the stables.

 

He nodded and slid down the stairs, half jumping off the end of it. Heights had never been a problem for him. Roald stare at the pair, joking around as they left the barn.

 

“Your royal tactfulness,” Neal said with a mock bow as he snuck up behind him. “How are we feeling today?”

 

Roald gave him a half smile. “Thinking.”

 

Neal raised his eyebrows and gave him a look. “You're brooding. Which I see you tend to do often. Thinking is an enjoyable activity that leads to many great changes and advances in our society. Brooding makes you a poet too fond of rain and other such things.”

 

The prince nudged him a little with his arm and shook his head. “Just a little worried about my temper,” he said instead of commenting on what he knew Neal was getting at. They both saw the warmth that seemed to radiate from Cleon. It would do her good to have another close friends.

 

“What temper? You want temper issues? Talk to Merric. He's full of problems. We may need to buy him a muzzle,” he mentioned thoughtfully, sounding as if he was seriously considering the option.

 

Roald laughed. “He doesn't have to behave, I believe you're more likely to need a muzzle.”

 

Neal stopped him and turned to stand in front of the prince. He looked him square in the eyes. “Neither do you.”

 

Before Roald could protest Neal had already turned around and changed the subject. 


End file.
